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Full text of "The little flag on Main street"

The Little Flag 

on 

lin Street 

M- Landburgh Wilson 



PS 3545 
1. 16358 

L7 
1 1917 

Copy 1 





Class 







/-^ • -"^ 



Copyright N^_ 



CORfRIGHT DEPOSIT, 



n< 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON 
MALM STREET 



> 9 ■ o * 

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

NEW YORK • BOSTON • CHICAGO • DALLAS 
ATLANTA • SAN FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN & CO., Limited 

LONDON . BOMBAY • CALCUTTA 
MKLBOURNB 

THE AUCMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd. 

TORONTO 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON 
MAIN STREET 



BY 

McLANDBURGH WILSON 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
1917 

±U rights rettrved 



^ 






Cofyrieht, 1917, hy Life Puhlishine Company 

Copyright, 1917 
By the MACMILLAN COMPANY 



Sot up and electrotyped. Published, October, 1917. 



NOV -i 1917 ' 



.^ ©CLA47C877 ^^ 



TO 
UNCLE SAM 

AND 

HIS ALLIES 



The author is indebted to the following 
publications for permission to reprint poems 
first appearing in their pages: Life Pub- 
lishing Company, Judge, The New York 
Sun, The New York Times, Ainslee's Maga- 
zine, The Bookman, London. 



CONTENTS 



chapter page 

The Little Flag on Main Street .... 1 

Made Safe for Democracy 3 

The Trees of France 5 

Where Do You Live? 7 

The Foreign Born 9 

The Case of Jim 10 

Nemesis 12 

The Conquering Blade 14 

The National Army 15 

The Superman 17 

Heroes 18 

The Little Towns Serene 19 

Out There 21 

The Butterfly 23 

The Compleat Letter Writer 24 

The Important Matter 26 

He Dons the Khaki and Away 27 

The Outrage of the Sea 28 

The Cheated 29 

When the War Will End 30 

Granddaddy Dollar 32 

The Foolish Deer 34 

At the Gate 35 

Belgium 37 

The Shuttles of the Sea 39 

The Windows of Heaven 41 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

A Round Trip 42 

Private Day 43 

The Little Cotton Flag 44 

The Dead Peace 46 

If There Be Flames 47 

France 48 

Her Soldier 49 

The Rainbow Division 51 

The Soap Box Protests 52 

The Song of the Forty-eight 54 

The Battle Horses 55 

The Youth That Dies 57 

Ancona 59 

Recruiting Sergeant Mother 61 

The Map o' the Heart 62 

Smokes for the Soldier 64 

Birnam Wood 66 

Who Willed the War to Be 67 

Edith Cavell 68 

The Patriots 70 

Where the Flag Shows 72 

The Test Ship 73 

Looking for Daddy 75 

Liberty's Dynamo 77 

The Angels of Conscript 78 

A Flag for Russia 80 

The Lights Are Out 82 

Soldiers 84 

Things You Can Do for the Country ... 85 

Uncle Sam's Dyes 86 

The Worship of the Kings 88 

The Flag 90 

The House of God 92 



CONTENTS 

chapter page 

Hushaby 93 

The Mettle of a Man 95 

Seeing the Guard Off 96 

The Children of the Brave 98 

The Green Blades 100 

Gifts for Uncle Sam 102 

The Soldier 104 

My Brother Died 105 

Easter 1917 107 

Ears to Hear 109 

The Liberty Baby Bonds Ill 

When Johnny Goes Marching Off . . . .113 

Three Grains of Corn 115 

Khaki 116 

Nature's Way 117 

What Is Wanted on the German Throne . .118 

The Service Flags 119 

Moving Time 120 

Helping Washington 122 

Company for Dinner 123 

Speeding the Soldier 124 

What Does It Profit a Man? 126 

Footsteps on the Sea 127 

Realization 128 

The Butcher of Belgium 129 

Rheims Cathedral 131 

The Army of Thoughts 133 

The Sinews of War 135 

The Substitute Life 130 

You 138 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

The little flag on Main Street 

Is floating all the day, 
Its stars are fairly sparkling, 

Its stripes are glad and gay. 
It stops the passing zephyrs 

To tell them as they dance : 
"I have a battle brother 

Who flies today in France!" 

The little flag on Main Street 
Is streaming all the night, 

It hails the wheeling planets 
Upon their glowing flight. 



[1] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 
It tells the joyful tidings 

And calls to all its kin: 
"I have a battle brother 
Who marches to Berlin!" 



[2] 



MADE SAFE FOR DEMOCRACY 

"Made safe for democracy" seems mighty 

fine, 
But high-soundin' politics ain't in our line. 
'Tain't that made us chuck up our jobs and 

enlist 
For givin' the Kaiser the taste of a fist, 
But this is the notion stowed under our lids: 
We're makin' it safe for the Missus and 

kids. 

They've taken the men folks and used 'em 

for slaves, 
They've driven the women to worse than 

their graves, 
They've taken the babies and cut off their 

hands 

[3] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

And murdered the bravest and peacefullest 

lands, 
And this is the notion tucked under our lids : 
It's somebody's Missus and somebody's 

kids. 

We ain't any better — it might have been us 
And that's why we're doin' our bit in the 

fuss, 
We don't know the rules of the high-soundin' 

game. 
Perhaps in the end it all comes to the same, 
But this is the notion stowed under our lids : 
We're makin' it safe for the Missus and 

kids. 



[4] 



THE TREES OF FRANCE 

Hush, little leaves, your springtime dance, 
Sigh for the murdered trees of France. 

Rooted deep were their sturdy forms. 
Joying both in the sun and storms. 

Friends were they of the peasant folk. 
Friends whom the birds and kine bespoke. 

Ever they gave, while slow years wheeled, 
Shade and shelter and fruitful yield. 

Spoil are they of destroying lust, 
Not of the battle stroke and thrust. 

Prone they lie on the Hun's black path, 
Done to death by his thwarted wrath. 
[5] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

They are a garden still to see, 
They are the world's Gethsemane. 

Hush, little leaves, your springtime dance, 
Sigh for the murdered trees of France. 



[6] 



WHERE DO YOU LIVE? 

"Where do you live?" says the War God 
grim, 

"Is your life in your loving heart? 
Then I can slay whom you hold most dear 

And strike in your vital part." 

"Where do you live?" says the War God 
grim, 

"Is your life in your belly fat? 
Then I can starve till you cry aloud 

And harry you sore thereat." 

"Where do you live?" says the War God 
grim, 
"Is your life in your vaunted brain? 
Then when your theories come to naught 
I prove that your boast is vain." 
[7] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAiy STREET 

"Where do you live?" says the War God 
grim, 

"Is your life in your dauntless soul? 
Then are my terrible weapons dulled — 

I pass and must leave you whole." 



[8] 



THE FOREIGN BORN 

\^lio are the foreign bom? Not those 

Whose pulses to Old Glory thrill, 
Who would protect it with their blows 

From insult of a tyrant's will. 
What though dieir bodies sprang from earth 

Upon a strange and distant strand, 
Tis here their spirits found their birth, 

And they are natives in the land. 

\^'ho are the native bom? Not those 

Who falter in the Flag's defence. 
Who would not die against its foes 

And count the joy a recompense. 
Whait though the ancestry they scom 

Runs backward to the Pilgrim band? 
Their spirits have been elsewhere bom 

And they are aliens in the land. 
[9] 



THE CASE OF JIM 

Ma's a-callin' from the milkhouse, 

Callin' stem: 
"Jim, yer lazy good fer nuthin', 

Come and chum." 

Pa's a-callin' from the cornpatch, 

Callin' loud: 
''James, yer hulkin' stupid loafer. 

Time yer ploughed." 

Woods are callin' from the trout brook; 

"Hear the stream? 
"Son, yer poor tired lazy feller, 

Come and dream." 



[10] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

France is callin' from the battle 

Day and night: 
"Man, come here and join your brothers, 

Come and fight!" 

Stranger, if we just swapped places, 

Put it clear, 
Which of all the four a-callin' 

Would you hear? 



[11] 



NEMESIS 

He married her because she cooked 

Such steak as heart could wish, 
But now without a protest brooked 
She sternly feeds him fish. 
Ram it down! 
Cram it down! 
Damn it down! 
She feeds him fish! 

He spliced with her because she made 

Light biscuits every morn, 
But now as patriotic aid 
She grimly feeds him com. 
Poke it down I 
Choke it down! 
Stoke it down ! 
She feeds him com! 
[12] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

He wedded her because he sighed 

For grub like other chaps, 
But now he finds his dream denied, 
She darkly feeds him scraps. 
Rush it down! 
Crush it down! 
Sqush it down! 
She feeds him scraps! 



[13] 



THE COXQUERIXG BLADE 

Said the Plough to the Sword: 
"I must turn into you, 

Till the Hun and his horde 
For our mercy shall sue." 

Said the Sword to the Plough: 
'*I must turn into you, 

For the battles hang now 
On what hanests may do." 

So die Sword and the Plough 
Are become as one blade, 

That the tyrant may bow 
And the Furrow be made. 



[14] 



THE NATIO-V\L AR.MY 

America has come into her o^vti. 

\ow when she needs defenders for her 

breast, 
Now when she craves a sword for the op- 
pressed 
She need not beg to make her peril known. 
Her bugle blast through all the world has 
blown 
And ever}- wind, north, south and east 

and west 
Has caught the summons, carried her 
behest. 
Till ever}- ear has heard the trumpet tone. 

She waits no more on head or heart or hand, 
She waits no more in supplication bowed 
For those whom her necessity must use; 
[15] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

The millions throng today at her command 
Bringing all gifts with which they are 
endowed ; 
Serene, she sits in majesty to choose! 



[16] 



THE SUPERMAN 

His vessels in the harbours lie, 

Strong hulks by eager waters lapped, 

Yet all within their engine rooms 
Is scrapped. 

His treaties lie for men to view. 

High thoughts in lofty language wrapped. 
But all within the heart of them 

Is scrapped. 

And he himself has mighty thews, 

A form that seems of strength unsapped. 

But all within the mind of him 
Is scrapped. 



[17] 



HEROES 

Ready with his eager life 

Enemies to quell, 
Giving all for Uncle Sam, 

Facing shot and shell. 
Bound to march on any foe 

Though the road be rough, 
Cheer for Johnny Leg-away, 

Made of hero stuff! 

Yet remember while you thrill 

To the tramping feet. 
In the breasts of stay-at-homes 

Soldier hearts may beat. 
Battles of the commonplace 

Rage the struggle through. 
Cheer for Johnny Peg-away, 

He's a hero too! 
[18] 



THE LITTLE TOWNS SERENE 

In the little town serene 
Changed is each familiar scene. 

In her borders overnight 

The cantonment springs to sight. 

In a twinkling of amaze 
Overturned are rooted ways. 

She whose sons sought larger scope 
Sudden swarms with youthful hope. 

She who once was all in all 
Suddenly becomes too small. 



[19] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

This is the transforming part 
Wrought by darlings of her heart. 

God! What change the Hun must mean 
To the little towns serene! 



[20] 



OUT THERE 

Out there, the flame swept trenches. 

Back here, the smiling field; 
Out there, the battle harvest, 

Back here, the fruitful yield. 
Oh, you who dwell securely 

With all that life can give. 
Remember those for ever 

Who died that you might live. 

Out there, the crowded moment, 
Back here, the tears and fears; 

Out there, the great adventure. 
Back here, the empty years. 



[21] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Oh, you who are immortal, 

Remember from on high 
The weary ones remaining 

Who lived that you might die. 



[22] 



THE BUTTERFLY 

We thought she was a butterfly, 

An empty-headed fool 
Who sought the gay frivolities 

When sterner aims should rule. 

She craved the honey from the bloom 
And never sipped the gall, 

The meaning of the tragedies 
She never knew at all. 

But now her son is khaki clad — 

Of unimagined things, 
How strange to think a butterfly 

Should give an eagle wings. 



[23] 



THE COMPLEAT LETTER WRITER 

Willy, just as he was starting 

On his orgy, 
Quite by way of pleasant parting, 

Wrote to Georgia. 

Furthering his bloody passion, 

Dark and tricky, 
Willy in his friendly fashion 

Wrote to Nicky. 

Striving that he might be counted 

Goody-goody, 
Willy as his ardour mounted 

Wrote to Woody. 



[24] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Meanwhile, tracing words to linger 

Dread and stilly, 
On the wall the Unseen Finger 

Wrote to Willy. 



[25] 



THE IMPORTANT MATTER 

Dame Nature worked in her shop with care 
To fashion a flower wondrous fair, 
She made it perfect in shapeliness 
And robed it rich as a monarch's dress. 

"Nay, Mother," I cried, "why toil to speed 
A fragile beauty that none shall heed? 
For thrones are crashing and nations slay 
And dead men carpet the earth today." 

The Dame paused not at her task, but said : 
"Now what to me are your wars and dead? 
My plans were made an eon ago 
That this identical bud should blow." 



[26] 



HE DONS THE KHAKI AND AWAY 

He dons the khaki and away, 
He is a man, a youth no more; 

Old memories arise to say 

I somehow lived this day before. 

Thus babyhood was left behind 

With the first sturdy step he took. 

And, not long since, I call to mind 
The day when boyhood he forsook. 

So I take comfort in the past, 
The future brightens in its ray; 

Each change is richer than the last — 
He dons the khaki and away! 



[27] 



THE OUTRAGE OF THE SEA 

Where is thine ancient majesty, oh sea, 

Thy might untamed? 
What bitter bondage hath been laid on thee? 

How art thou shamed? 

Thy rolling deep, that once rocked only 
dead 
Of storm and wave. 
Now holds the murdered whom the Hun has 
sped 
Unto the grave. 

And were that not enough thy pride to bow 

Before all lands, 
Thou art the basin wherein Pilate now 

Doth wash his hands. 
[28] 



THE CHEATED 

A dirge for those who fall 
Before they meet the foe, 

Who have no chance at all 
To deal them blow for blow. 

Their crimson sacrifice 
Devotion's measure fills, 

Yet fate to them denies 
Reward of battle thrill. 

So weep beside their pall 
That death has willed it so; 

A dirge for those who fall 
Before they meet the foe. 



[29] 



WHEN THE WAR WILL END 

The war will end, they blithely sing, 
Next fall, next winter or next spring. 

As though the forces thus unpent 
Could in so brief a time be spent, 
As though it marks not all who strive 
And all who witness — all alive. 
And sets its seal upon the mom 
Of generations yet unborn. 

Nay, when ten thousand years have fled 

And all forgotten are the dead. 

If one who passed in battle hate 

Still holds that thought beyond the Gate, 



[30] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Still holds that lust beyond the dawn, 
The war will still be raging on. 

The war will end, they blithely sing, 
Next fall, next winter or next spring. 



[31] 



GRANDDADDY DOLLAR 

Granddaddy Soldier is plumb full of fight, 
Wants to lick Germany clear out of sight, 
Fire in his bosom but snow on his locks, 
Wratliful is he that the age limit mocks. 

Granddaddy Workman is brimful of zeal, 
Wants to help freedom with shoulder to 

wheel, 
Railing is he at the fate that appoints, 
Vim in his heart but a creak in his joints. 

Granddaddy Dollar is chock full of joy, 
Says he is feeling as young as a boy, 
Young as the youngest of dollars is he. 
Strong are his sinews as any can be. 

[32] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Back in the sixties he pitched in the fray, 
Laboured for Liberty, clearing the way, 
Now with the youngest of soldiers and men 
Granddaddy Dollar is joining again. 



[33] 



THE FOOLISH DEER 

A foolish deer once missed his guess 
Because of unpreparedness. 

Said he, "I don't believe in such; 
I think they praise it overmuch. 

"The forest is so very wide 

No enemy could reach my side. 

"And if they did, I have my horns. 
A weapon no one ever scorns. 

"And should that fail, I have my heels; 
A single glance my speed reveals." 

Alas, the deer who proudly spake 
Was soon a hatrack and a steak! 
[34] 



AT THE GATE 

Three spirits stood at Peter's Gate 
Their earthly records to relate. 

"I was efficient," said the first, 
"I cared not how abhorred and cursed. 
By what black ways of heart and soul. 
It mattered not to make my goal." 

"I was deficient," said the next, 

"I never solved the problems vexed, 

I had no might to stay the wrong, 

By weakness I betrayed the strong." 

"I was sufficient," said the third, 
"I sought not to be seen nor heard, 

[35] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

My power broke oppression's thrall 
And gave protection to the small." 

Three spirits stood at Peter's Gate, 
One passed within — the others wait. 



[36] 



BELGIUM 

With accuracy of the stars 
Upon their courses whirled, 

The Prussian timed his bloody way 
To march around the world. 

Precisely rolled his ordered hosts 

Across the plain and hill, 
And then uprose a Joshua 

And bade the sun stand still. 

Red days and nights the German beast 

Was halted on his track; 
Red nights and days at fearful cost 

He held the legions back. 



[37] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 
He turned them from the Paris gates, 

He stayed their hosts in France 
And England's soil escaped their sword, 
America their lance. 

Now if within the glass of Time 
The sands could backward run, 

What moment of them all would be 
Regretted of the Hun? 

Not those in which he cast the die 

To work his fiendish will, 
But those when Belgium uprose 

And made the sun stand still! 



[38] 



THE SHUTTLES OF THE SEA 

Columbus carried the first shining thread, 
A golden strand of bright discovery, 
And ever since the shuttles of the sea 
Across the ocean's vasty loom have sped. 
The Mayflower spun and freedom's colours 
spread ; 
The warships wove that glory's gleam 

might be; 
The merchantmen made stuff of industry, 
And pirate Huns wrought murder black and 
dread. 

Now are we blest of all the toiling line. 
Our eyes the finished fabric soon shall 
greet, 
Our generation see the perfect plan. 
[39] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Go forth, our ships, upon the Great Design 
And to the last red tracery complete 
The pattern of the liberty of man. 



[40] 



THE WINDOWS OF HEAVEN 

With faith that has never been shaken, 
With certainty never dismayed, 

The windows of Paris are taken 
To see the triumphal parade. 

But what of the hosts who have perished 
To bring such a glorious fame. 

Who sacrificed all that they cherished 
Too soon for the victor's acclaim? 

With faith that can never be broken, 
Perhaps, from the blue vaulted arch. 

The windows of heaven are spoken 
To witness the victory march. 



[41] 



A ROUND TRIP 

In swaddling clothes he came across the sea 

In flight from wrong, 
Before his eyes all vast blue mystery, 

Waves rolling long. 
And in his ears an Old World melody — 

His mother's song. 

In khaki he goes back across the sea 

To smite a wrong, 
Before his eyes the ocean majesty 

Outraged too long. 
And in his ears "My Country, 'Tis of 
Thee"— 

His mother's song. 



[42] 



PRIVATE DAY 

The days are the armies of Time 
Who win all the battles at length; 

A week is a corporal's guard, 

A month is a company's strength. 

A year is a regiment brave, 
A decade becomes a brigade, 

And out of a century's roll 
His mighty division is made. 

So swift is promotion attained, 
A private with fate in his hand, 

A private — a day in the ranks 

May spring to the highest command. 



[43] 



THE LITTLE COTTON FLAG 

In a narrow shaft of daylight 
Where its folds in darkness drag, 

From a tenement back window 
Hangs a little cotton flag. 

Distant far from the parading, 

To the sounding cheers unknown. 

Yet its stars are one in glory 
With the silken banners flown. 

One with those above the White House 
And the Capitol's great dome; 

One with those above the soldiers 
And the warships on the foam. 



[44] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Safe for ever is our nation 
And our honour shall not lag 

While the tenement back window 
Flies the little cotton flag. 



[45] 



THE DEAD PEACE 

Hurled from our world awry, 

A world of reason fled, 
The white Peace rides the sky 

A moon all cold and dead. 

Men think she has not sped 
Beyond their childish grasp 

And by their yearning led 
They stretch vain hands to clasp. 

We see her shine on high, 

Far beams on us are shed. 
But even while we cry 

The hands we stretch are red. 

For her our hosts have bled, 
Now rolls war's crimson flood; 

The Dead Peace overhead 
Still draws the tides of blood. 
[46] 



IF THERE BE FLAMES 

If there be flames in nether hell 
For those who served the devil well, 
The arch-assassin's pyre shall be 
Of driftwood gathered from the sea. 

The masts and spars he sent to doom 
Shall burn for ever in the gloom, 
Shall lick about his shrivelled soul 
While all eternity shall roll. 

And this shall be his agony: 
Strange pictures in the fire to see. 
Amid the flames that dance and leap 
Dread forms he murdered on the deep. 



[47] 



FRANCE 

We looked on France as an April sky 
Where frivolous hues are seen on high, 
Nor dreamed that hers are the clouds of 

gloom 
Which hold the purposeful bolts of doom. 

We looked on France as a sunset sky 
Where glorious tints are bom to die, 
Nor dreamed that hers are the ordered stars 
Which fight in their courses to win her wars. 

But now henceforth when we look on France 
Another sky shall our eyes entrance, 
For out of her stars and out of her storm 
The rainbow spanning the earth shall form. 

[48] 



HER SOLDIER 

He is sharp and keen for battle, 
1 am dull and sore afraid, 

For my love would hold him safely 
As the scabbard holds the blade. 

Stainless is his shining honour, 
Shall it be by me betrayed? 

Shall I rust his manly mettle 
As the scabbard rusts the blade? 

Lest he feel my arms a prison, 
Lest with scorn I be repaid, 

I must give him to the conflict 
As the scabbard gives the blade. 



[49] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Mine to feel no thrill of warfare, 
Maddened charge or dashing raid; 

Mine to wait with empty longing 
As the scabbard waits the blade. 

For my soul shall cling beside him 
Through attack or ambuscade, 

Close, but powerless to shield him 
As the scabbard from the blade. 



[50] 



THE RAINBOW DIVISION 

In the war clouds dark 
It has had its birth 

And the Hun shall mark 
Where it touches earth. 

For his lines shall bend 
And his ranks shall reel; 

At the rainbow's end 
Is a pot of steel. 



[511 



THE SOAP BOX PROTESTS 

I here protest against my fate 

And bitterly I wish to state 

The uselessness of living straight. 

I passed a life devoid of blame, 
The world is better for the same, 
Sweet cleanliness was all my aim. 

Then came the great indignity. 
Quite publicly, for all to see, 
A dirty traitor mounted me. 

Without consulting me at all, 
With simply monumental gall 
He used me for a pedestal. 

[52] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

He poured forth treason till I cried 

Because I had no soap inside 

To cleanse the soul within his hide. 

And yet despite what I am for, 
Despite my never-ending war, 
They dub him "Soap box orator." 



[53] 



THE SONG OF THE FORTY-EIGHT 

All you mighty suns 
Rolling in the sky 
Haven't hushed the guns, 

Haven't seemed to try. 
Hey, you Pleiades! 

Hey, you Milky Way! 
Don't you look on these 

Jealously today? 

Eight and forty stars 

In Old Glory's field 
Force the Kaiser's tars 

Human rights to yield. 
Hey, you Jupiter! 

Hey, you Saturn great! 
Doesn't envy stir 
For the Forty-eight? 
[54] 



THE BATTLE HORSES 

Once they ploughed the fruitful field, 
Helped the reaper gain his yield, 
Came to eve with sweet content. 
Browsing when the day was spent. 
Now they lie with mangled hide, 
Fallen in the carnage tide. 

What to them the sounding phrase 
Which explains the bloody ways? 
Honour, place or racial stem, 
Slav or Teuton, what to them? 
Torn and dead or death denied, 
Fallen in the carnage tide. 

Now they wage the battle hot, 
Plunging under shell and shot, 
[55] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Charging in the cannon's breath 
Bearing dealers of tlie deatli. 
Till in agony tliey bide, 
Fallen in the carnage tide. 

Theirs was not the chance to say 
Words of peace to save the day. 
They who could not hush the drum, 
Wliose Creator made them dumb, 
Yet are one with those who ride. 
Fallen in the carnage tide. 



[56] 



THE YOUTH THAT DIES 

In years to come, upon the German land 
Perhaps some plague shall lay an awful 

hand, 
A scourge mysterious that fills the grave 
And she shall cry for scientists to save. 
But Fate shall answer to her call forlorn: 
"Behold! the genius whom you crave was 

horn. 
But you shall seek for him in vain. He 

died, 
A drummer boy in Marne's red battletide." 

Nay, even now the State makes mortal cry 
For mighty minds to save her lest she die, 
For great hearts, tender, patient, strong and 
clean, 

[57] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

For wisdom such as earth has seldom seen. 
And if, despite the courage of her sons, 
Her glory passes in the breath of guns, 
May Fate not answer: "Lo, the needed man 
Died long ago, a stripling at Sedan!" 



[58] 



ANCONA 

Oh coming tide, what have you seen 

On rolling wastes afar, 
That you should break in such a moan 

Upon the harbour bar? 

"I looked upon a fiendish sight 
That made the angels weep ; 

The women and the helpless babes 
Foul murdered on the deep." 

Oh ebbing tide, where go you forth 

So silent, sad and stem? 
What is the mission you perform 

Before you shall return? 



[59] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

"I go to sing the requiem 

Each day I shall repeat 
Until we both shall yield them up 

Before God's judgment seat." 



[60] 



RECRUITING SERGEANT MOTHER 

The hour has struck for duty, 

To be a soldier true; 
Recruiting Sergeant Mother, 

The army looks to you! 

There comes a call for sailors 
On freedom's ocean blue; 

Recruiting Sergeant Mother, 
The navy looks to you! 

The sons of other mothers 
Go forth to guard you too; 

Recruiting Sergeant Mother, 
The nation looks to you! 



[61] 



THE MAP 0' THE HEART 

Old worlds are new and new worlds are old, 
To each Columbus are paths unrolled, 
By the map o' the heart. 

The seas are narrow and streams are wide, 
Mountains unite and plains divide. 
By the map o' the heart. 

The capital city of all the world 
Is a little town in a valley curled. 
By the map o' the heart. 

The latitude is the breadth of love, 
The longitude is the height above. 
By the map o' the heart. 

[62] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Through blinding desert or trackless foam. 
One never is lost if he but roam 
By the map o' the heart. 



[63] 



SMOKES FOR THE SOLDIERS 

When he can pull on his pipe 

Solace and help to evoke, 
When the brief moment is ripe 

Whom does he see in the smoke? 

Maybe a sweetheart or wife 

Left when the battle guns spoke, 

In his full hour of life 

Whom does he see in the smoke? 

If you have given him true, 

Maybe — it isn't a joke — 
Maybe 'twill be even you 

Whom he will see in the smoke. 



[64] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Through the blue wreaths to his glance 

All are a glorified folk; 
Sometime and somewhere in France 

Whom will he see in the smoke? 



[65] 



BIRNAM WOOD 

So, royal murderer, you thought 
To strew the sea with dead 

Till not a single prow was left 
To sail the pathway red. 

But wooden ships are building now, 
Stout vessels, thousands strong. 

With sides of oak and tall pine masts 
The ocean ways to throng. 

And terror shall besiege your heart 

And tell you all is vain 
When you shall see that Birnam Wood 

Has come to Dunsinane. 



[66] 



WHO WILLED THE WAR TO BE 

Who willed the war to be, 
Who called the world to slay, 

If he be mad, before God's throne 
For saneness he shall pray. 

Who knows what he has wrought. 
Who knows the bloodstained way, 

If he be sane, before God's throne 
For madness he shall pray. 



[67] 



EDITH CAVELL 

On law and love and mercy 
Was laid the German curse 

When to her execution 
Was led the British nurse. 

In brutal might they thought her 
Of help and friendship shorn; 

John Brown, Jeanne d'Arc, all martyrs 
Companioned her that mom. 

A harmless, tender woman, 
They took her to her doom; 

A dread, resistless spirit 
She rises from the tomb. 



[68] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Still Germany shall fear her, 

For since that bloody dawn 
Through all the earth that trembles 

Her soul goes marching on! 



[69] 



THE PATRIOTS 

The earth was thirsty — it fain would drink, 
A patriot watered it well with ink, 
For he was a critical cautious man 
With many a well considered plan, 
But out of the mud there came to pass 
No greening beauty, no blade of grass. 

The earth was thirsty — the drouth of years, 
A patriot watered it well with tears; 
A good man he, with a tender heart, 
Who knew not war was a needful part. 
But out of the sodden soil there grew 
But rosemary sad and grieving rue. 

The earth was thirsty — it craved a flood, 
A patriot watered it well with blood, 
[70] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

The blood of valorous clear-eyed youth 
Who died for honour and Flag and truth, 
And laurel sprang from the crimsoned sod 
And lilies of peace grew up to God. 



[71] 



WHERE THE FLAG SHOWS 

There's a certain sort of glory- 
That is throbbing in the street; 

You can read the battle story 
In the faces that you meet. 

They have hung the colours gleaming 
From their offices and homes, 

And the Flag is proudly streaming 
From the many towered domes. 

For the battle fire has known it 
Where the cannon thunder rolls, 

And the citizens have flown it 

From the windows of their souls. 



[72] 



THE TEST SHIP 

She has laid her path in the Kaiser's wrath, 

A free American ship, 
Where assassins lurk in the ocean murk 

And the bolts of death let slip. 

Have we done our share who have bade her 
dare, 
A free American ship? 
We are safe at home while she braves the 
foam. 
Our service is of the lip. 

So honour and hail to the men who sail 

The free American ship. 
For their only might is an ancient right 

And the Flag that will not dip. 
[73] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

They have gone as test for the beast to wrest, 

A free American ship; 
Lest their blood lie red at our door instead, 

Pray heaven protect their trip! 



[74] 



LOOKING FOR DADDY 

Their curly heads beside the lamp, 
His little lass and laddie, 

With fat forefingers on the map 
They daily look for Daddy. 

And somewhere underneath the sea 

A submarine is steering, 
A man beside the periscope 

For Daddy ever peering. 

Or it may be that up above, 
The vaulted heaven streaking. 

An airman courses through the sky 
For Daddy also seeking. 



[75] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

God grant they find the sole success, 

His little lass and laddie, 
Who gather close around the map 

And daily look for Daddy. 



[76] 



LIBERTY'S DYNAMO 

What if the foe is strong, 
Centuries grey in ruth? 

Marches against the wrong 
Billions of years of youth. 

Filled with the joy of life, 
Filled with its fire and glow 

Forth go the boys to strife — 
Liberty's dynamo. 



[77] 



THE ANGELS OF CONSCRIPT 

Since earth has been peopled, 
Since time first began, 

The Angels of Conscript 
Have called unto man. 

Through mystical regions 

The Angel of Life 
Has sounded the bugle 

To enter the strife. 

With blasts of his trumpet 

The Angel of Death 
Has gathered his levies 

From all who draw breath. 



[78] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Now, joining the others 

In clarion tone, 
The Angel of Duty 

The summons has blown. 



[79] 



A FLAG FOR RUSSIA 

The flag of revolution 

Has served its appointed end, 

It is laid aside 

With the days that died 
With the dust of time to blend. 

A flag for the new republic! 
A banner to wave on high, 

As a streaming sign 

Of the boon divine 
In a free and storm cleansed sky. 

Look up to the heavens, Russia, 

Whence the Stars and Stripes were snatched. 

Where the lamps of night 

And the morning light 
Make a glory still unmatched. 
[80] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Now weave you the seven stripings 
From the rainbow's shining span. 

Let their gleaming dyes 

Make a flag that flies, 
A symbol of hope to man. 

And then let its folds triumphant 
Float over the tides of blood 

Till it tells at last 

That the clouds are past 
And there shall be no more flood! 



[81] 



THE LIGHTS ARE OUT 

The lights are out in London town 

To thwart attack; 
The darkness settles thickly down 

And all is black. 

The hearth's warm glow is veiled from sight 

And hid away; 
The scholar's lamp is wrapped in night 

And gives no ray. 

The altar taper has no gleam 

Where faith may stir; 
The beacon guides not with its beam 

The wanderer. 



[82] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

These sparks divine of central Light 

War covers well, 
And leaves alone to cleave the night 

The flames of hell. 



[83] 



SOLDIERS 

One plies his dull civilian task, 

The duty of the commonplace; 
Not his in glory's ray to bask, 

Not his a hero death to face. 
And though he goes his daily way 

And to his fellows gives no sign, 
Awake, asleep, by night and day 

His heart is on the firing line. 

One does his bit in trench or charge 

For conquest of the enemy. 
And every passing hour is large 

With mighty opportunity. 
He sounds his guns to heaven's dome, 

Yet to his mates he gives no sign. 
His heart is in the hills of home. 

Far distant from the firing line. 
[84] 



THINGS YOU CAN DO FOR THE 
COUNTRY 

The fighting man can die for it; 
The saving man can buy for it; 
The aviator fly for it; 
The thrifty cook can fry for it; 
The thirsty can go dry for it; 
The daring man can spy for it; 
The egotist can I for it; 
The diplomat can lie for it; 
The farmer can grow rye for it; 
The workingman can ply for it; 
The very babies cry for it; 
And all of us can try for it. 



[85] 



UNCLE SAM'S DYES 

Now Uncle Sam is colour free 
And needs no dyes from over sea. 

His violet is purple worn 
Where every man a king is bom. 

His indigo is from his sky 

Where shine his kindred stars on high. 

His blue is from his inland sea 
Where peaceful waves lap endlessly. 

His green is from the forests wide 
That clothe his mighty mountainside. 



[86] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

His yellow is the golden grain 
That covers all his western plain. 

His orange is the treasure trove 
From Florida's enchanted grove. 

His red is from the splendid flood 
Of eager patriotic blood. 

On coal tar explanations frown — 
He simply boils his rainbow down. 



[87] 



THE WORSHIP OF THE KINGS 

Now joy has come to the world of men 

And the sky exultant rings, 
Behold, to the Prince of Peace again 

Comes the worship of the kings! 

And who are the monarchs? Who are these 
By the millions thronging round? 

The kings of the world's democracies, 
Where every man is crowned. 

Their frankincense and their myrrh and 
gold— 

What gifts do they bring to cast? 
Their lives and fortunes and all they hold, 

Their war for a peace to last. 

[88] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

The great shells crash and the cannon roar 

And the angel chorus sings, 
Behold, to the Prince of Peace once more 

Comes the worship of the kings! 



[89] 



THE FLAG 

Oh, say, can you hear, 
In hush of the morn. 

The words of the Flag 
As daylight is born? 

"Lives one 'neath my stars, 
Breathes one 'neath my fold 

Who lives not for me 

Till death strikes him cold? 

"Then turn him adrift 

On seas whence he came. 

My stars cannot pierce 
The depths of his shame." 



[90] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

The winds tell it well, 

The message is clear; 
'Tis thus speaks the Flag, 

Oh, say, can you hear? 



[91] 



THE HOUSE OF GOD 

A shudder runs through all the world, 

A horror of the wanton wrack 
When on the House of God is hurled 

The vandal's impious attack. 
We sorrow for the man-made walls, 

Yet strangely feel a lesser guilt 
When with each slaughtered soldier falls 

The temple God, Himself, has built. 

The history of ages vast 

The dream-like pile has seen and known, 
The dim, rich centuries o'erpast. 

The ancient beauty of its stone. 
But in God's living house abide 

The eons since the cave man free, 
And in the throbbing walls reside 

The golden future that shall be. 
[92] 



HUSHABY 

All the lands are filled with soldiers, 
Only one is safe and nigh; 

Go to sleep, my little baby, 
Ere the bolts of battle fly 

And destroy the magic country 

Where the Sand Man's beaches lie, 
Hushaby 1 

All the clouds are filled with fighting. 

Only one is safe to try; 
Go to sleep, my little baby, 

Ere the navies of the sky 
Shall destroy the sunset towers 

Crowning Sleepytown on high. 
Hushaby 1 

[93] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

All the seas are red with conquest, 
Only one no foe may spy; 

Go to sleep, my little baby, 
Ere the warships grim reply 

And awake the drowsy waters 

Where the slumber sea makes sigh, 
Hushaby! 



[94] 



THE METTLE OF A MAN 

You need a standard to compare 

Before you know just what you are; 

You have to see tlie mercury 
To tell how cold or hot you are. 

And also, when it comes to wealth, 
You never know just which you are; 

You have to see another's gold 
To feel how poor or rich you are. 

And so it is with bravery, 

You do not know how meek you are; 
You measure with another's steel 

To find how strong or weak you are. 



[95] 



SEEING THE GUARD OFF 

And did you see the Guard today, 
The khaki army on its way? 
And did you note from first to last 
How much alike each lad who passed? 
With thrilling heart did you behold 
The endless stream of youth that rolled, 
The valiant hosts of marching men? 
You counted thousands? then — ah then, 
You had no badge. 

And did you see the Guard today, 
The khaki army on its way? 
Some came before — you saw them not. 
And some came after — you forgot, 
But one stood out from all the rest 
As though alone he sought the quest, 
[96] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 
As though alone he marched to win, 
You saw him only — ^he was kin, 
You had a badge. 



[97] 



THE CHILDREN OF THE BRAVE 

A brave man went to battle 
And left no son behind ; 

A coward stayed home safely 
To propagate his kind. 

And then the land lamented 
Her noblest men were gone, 

Were dead with no descendants 
To hand the torches on. 

But in his valiant passing 

The soldier left a deed 
To serve as inspiration 

For Time's unborn to heed. 



[98] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

When in his generation 

He heard the trumpets cry, 

The coward's son, responding, 
Went bravely forth to die. 



[99] 



THE GREEN BLADES 

Adding the strength of their blades to the 
combat, 
Sharpened for freedom and keen for a 
blow, 
Forth from the scabbard of earth where they 
rested 
All the green swords have been drawn on 
the foe. 

Pressing and swaying in undulate masses, 
Over the acres in mighty expanse, 

Bright in the sunlight and white in the 
moonlight 
All the green lances are riding for France. 



[100] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Ready to fight in democracy's battle, 

Fixed for the thrust with a soldierly sign, 

Bristling and shining in phalanx on phalanx 
All the green bayonets point to the Rhine. 



[101] 



GIFTS FOR UNCLE SAM 

What gifts have we for Uncle Sam 
In this, the hour we hear his call? 

What offerings are at his feet 
From each and all? 

Those who have come from foreign lands 
Where ancient ties of blood hold fast, 

Where olden memories are strong, 
Give him the Past. 

Some bring the sacrifice supreme, 
The golden years they shall not live. 

For those who die in battle smoke 
The Future give. 



[102] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Let all cast out their selfish aims. 
The small ambitions that hold sway, 

With one accord and heart and soul 
Give him Today. 



[103] 



THE SOLDIER 

When he leaves for battle 
Cheer him on his way, 

Weep for him tomorrow, 
Smile for him today. 

When he falls in battle, 

Hero of the fray, 
Smile for him tomorrow. 

Weep for him today. 



[104] 



MY BROTHER DIED 

My brother died in Belgium 

By heartless foemen slain, 
And yet I went my easy way 
And took my pleasure day by day 

Nor felt the lonely pain. 

My brother died in Scarborough 
Struck down without a chance ; 

I had but little loss to tell 

Nor mourned him wildly when he fell. 
Foul struck, in ravaged France. 

They drowned my brother in a ship 

By murder 'neath the wave 
And straightway then my grief unpent, 
My heart with bitter woe was rent 
And would avenge his grave. 
[105] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Yet while I mourn uncomforted 

And cry to heaven's throne, 
How many deaths my brother died 
Before I missed him from my side 
And knew him for my own. 



[106] 



EASTER 1917 

While the flags of freedom's world 
To the battle smoke unfurled, 
There was one we loved the best, 
Dear to us beyond the rest, 
Which was missing. 

Would it never fly again 
For the liberty of men? 
There, where others never quailed, 
Had the Starry Banner failed 
In its glory? 

Many bonds its folds restrained, 
Held it as an eagle chained, 
And we watched and waited long 
Till the fear grew chill and strong 
It had perished. 
[107] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Lo, in splendour now it comes 
To the throbbing of the drums, 
And rejoicing peoples cry, 
As it streams across the sky, 
"It is risen!" 



[108] 



EARS TO HEAR 

Once in a pause 
Occurred a sound ; 

I asked the cause 
Of all around. 

"Philosopher, 

What has it been?' 
He answered, "Sir, 

You heard a pin." 

"Oh angel, tell 

What may it be?" 
"A sparrow fell," 

Soft answered he. 



[109] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

"Oh citizen, 

Pray make it known." 
He told me then: 

"A falling throne." 



[110] 



THE LIBERTY BABY BONDS 

Liberty's babies are sturdy to view, 
Every one's home should have room for a 
few. 

Very good babies, so heahhy and bright, 
Never will keep you awake in the night. 

Very bright babies who talk all the day, 
You can repeat the smart things that they 
say. 

Very fine babies — pure gold is their worth, 
None are more precious in all of the earth. 

Very rich babies will soon be their stage, 
Joy of your prime and the prop of your age. 

[1111 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Very strong babies, all sure to grow up, 
When we have conquered and peace fills our 
cup. 



[112] 



WHEN JOHNNY GOES MARCHING 
OFF 

Pa sees it at a glance, 
He thinks he'll be a General, 
With Joffre and Haig and Pershing pal, 

Somewhere in France. 

Ma fears he has no chance, 
The bombs will follow on his trail, 
The shells will hit and never fail 

Somewhere in France. 

Sis feels a far romance. 
She thinks he'll find a pretty wife 
Between the intervals of strife 

Somewhere in France. 

[113] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Bub sees it at a glance, 
They've picked the family muttonhead, 
He's old enough to go instead 

Somewhere in France. 



[114] 



THREE GRAINS OF CORN 

"Give me three grains of corn, mother, 
Only three grains of com!" 

Thus, in her plaintive accents, 
Pleaded the child forlorn. 

Little it was she begged for, 

Little enough she craved; 
Tiny the dole for hunger, 

Thus would her life be saved. 

Then said her heartless parent: 
"None of your nonsense now; 

Shut up and eat the plateful, 
Corn is the proper chow!" 



[115] 



KHAKI 

Forth go the men in khaki, 
Drab as the soil beneath them, 
Matched with the stretch of desert. 
One with the great waste spaces 
Melting away in distance. 

Under the soldier tunic 
Beats in each man a spirit 
Matched with the mighty purpose, 
One with the Will Eternal 
Over creation brooding. 

Then when the ranks of khaki 
Break on the blinded foeman 
He shall behold with terror 
That which from sight was hidden ; 
Earth and the whelming Judgment! 
[116] 



NATURE'S WAY 

When war is done and guns are still, 
Then Mother Nature works her will. 

Above the graves where soldiers sleep 
Her tender grasses softly creep. 

The blackened ruin, stark and grim, 
She wraps in ivy green and dim. 

The grisly horror in the mind 
With valour's laurel is entwined. 

And then her children cry, consoled: 
"She heals the scars that peace may hold!' 

But ask the Mother — what thinks she? 
"If they forget, more wars can be." 
[ 117 ] 



WHAT IS WANTED ON THE 
GERMAN THRONE 

From out that madhouse which is Germany 
Armed lunatics have issued on the world; 

In each crazed brain some bloody phantasy 
Whose wild disorder on mankind is 
hurled. 

They think they have become the Deity, 
In wanton torture find a fiend's delight, 

And all delusions hold red rivalry 

To waste the earth insanely in their might. 

In vain to cry against a monarchy — 

Long since an abdication has been shown; 

In vain to prate of a democracy 

Till Reason is established on her throne. 
[118] 



THE SERVICE FLAGS 

I see the sky at midnight 
And hail the flags afar, 

From each of heaven's windows 
There flies a service star. 

What mean the shining symbols? 

The watchers in the sky 
Have proudly hung the banners 

While hope and fear runs high. 

I think the many mansions 
That fly the stars of light 

Have some one with the colours, 
Have some one in the fight. 



[119] 



MOVING TIME 

Your Uncle Sam is busy now, for moving 

time has come, 
He packs his good old uniform, his sabre 

and his drum; 
He packs the family portraits that have 

hung upon the wall, 
George Washington and Lincoln and his 

heroes one and all. 

Quite certain rays of Liberty are needed 

everywhere. 
He also packs his precious lamp with most 

uncommon care. 
And last he takes the family bird, the pet 

with eagle scream. 
And piles them all into the van and wallops 

up the team! 

[120] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Where is his new abiding place? where 
will his home be made? 

He goes into the biggest house in which he 
ever stayed, 

For when beside his Allies' flags his stand- 
ard is unfurled, 

He moves from out a continent and moves 
into a world. 



[121] 



HELPING WASHINGTON 

Think that Washington is slow? 

Saints above! 
Want to get 'em on the go? 

Want to shove? 

Want to hurry up the fight, 

Speed it far? 
You can push with all your might 

Where you are. 

Want to help for woe or weal? 

Listen, Bub: 
Put your shoulder to the wheel, 

Not the hub. 



[122] 



COMPANY FOR DINNER 

Our cousins are coming to dinner. 

The larder is showing a lack, 
So pass the kick under the table 

And signal the family, "Hold back!" 

You, Mother, decline the potatoes, 
And Father, go light on the meat; 

And Sis, have a heart for the sugar. 
And Bub, skip the bread when you eat. 

There — France, have some more, let us be^ 
you; 

John Bull, let us fill up your plate; 
And Belgium, another good helping — 

Gee folks, but to have you is great! 

[123] 



SPEEDING THE SOLDIER 

Sun just won't be solemn 
When it sees the column 

Wheeling into line; 
Knows a way that's fitter, 
Starts right in to glitter, 

Simply has to shine. 

Moon just won't be cranky 
When it sees the Yankee 

Marching off to France; 
Every moonbeam, happy. 
Feels so proud and scrappy. 

Simply has to dance. 

These who see the saddest, 
These who watch the maddest 
[124] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Of our earthly sights, 
Want to glow for glory 
Blazoning the story 

When the soldier fights. 



[125] 



WHAT DOES IT PROFIT A MAN? 

He dreamed a dream of Prussia's rod. 

The world in his control, 
And, worshipping a Prussian god, 

Feared not to lose his soul. 

He gained the countries which he sought 
And made the eartli run red. 

But hy the hellish deeds he wrought 
His soul is forfeited. 

Now by avenging armies pressed 

He counts the fearful cost 
And knows within his shaking breast 

Both world and soul are lost. 



[126] 



FOOTSTEPS ON THE SEA 

The troubled deeps have known 
The wrath of warring man; 

Far plunged beneath the wave 
He works his bloody plan. 

The surface billows know, 
Above their curling crest, 

The thunder of his guns, 
The wreck of his unrest. 

How must the ocean yearn. 
How greatly longs the sea 

To feel the peaceful steps 
That trod on Galilee. 



[127] 



REALIZATION 

The bloody war rolls on 
To reach the hidden end ; 

We speak of legions gone, 
But cannot comprehend. 

We cannot grasp the woes 
So greatly multiplied, 

There is no man who knows 
A million men have died. 

But by the hearts bereft, 

The gravestones scattered wide, 

Ah me, the millions left 

Who know one man has died! 



[128] 



THE BUTCHER OF BELGIUM 

Von Bissing, the Butcher of Belgium, is 

dead. 
He has passed while his ears heard the 

conqueror's tread; 
He has cheated the hangman and died in his 

bed. 

The might of the Allies was pressing him 

well, 
The guilt of his conscience their shout 

could foretell, 
And the cry on their lips was of Edith 

Cavell. 

His flesh has escaped from the penalty 
earned, 

[129] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

His tigerish being to dust has returned, 
But Nemesis cannot be shaken or spumed. 

For memory's strands twine a rope that is 

strong, 
And hung by the noose of each outrage and 

wrong 
The soul of Von Bissing shall dangle for 

long. 



[130] 



RHEIMS CATHEDRAL 

Long centuries ago a holy man 
Sang out his soul in ecstasy to God ; 
So sweet the rapture of the music ran, 
An angel froze it to the hallowed sod; 
Love, faith and worship all took form on 

high, 
And Rheims Cathedral towered to the sky. 

It stood through all the ages of mischance, 
Knew kings and peasants, lords and ladies 

fair. 
It looked upon the sainted Maid of France, 
And sinners found a sanctuary there; 
So, for the sake of His most holy name. 
The foulest vandals spared it from the 

flame. 

[131] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

Then came the Germans, with the breath of 

hell 
The walls were melted, and the music fled; 
For all the beauty that men loved so well, 
A Demon's discord cleaves the air instead. 
And what was once a prayer to God's far 

throne, 
Stands now, an awful blasphemy in stone. 

Prize poem in London Bookman. 



[132] 



THE ARMY OF THOUGHTS 

A thought will hit when a shot will stray, 
A thought will stand when a fort gives way, 
A thought will feed when no bread is nigh, 
A thought will live when a man will die. 

So the German cruisers watched in vain, 
The thoughts sped over the rolling main. 
The searchlights tattered the clouds of night 
But missed the hosts on their onward flight. 

So the picket walked on his lonely beat 
And heard no warning of tramping feet; 
The sentry stood in the life-thrilled air 
But gave no summons of "Who goes there?" 



[133] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

But out where the battling armies met, 
Out where tlie slopes with blood were wet, 
A corps half beaten and lost, despite, 
Felt strangely strengtliened to win the fight. 

And far away in a ruined land 

Where a mother wept with her orphaned 

band, 
A strange balm soothed her and hushed her 

cry, 
And she dried her tears, though she knew 

not why. 



[134] 



THE SINEWS OF WAR 

Want to punch the Kaiser 
Way across the pond? 

Cultivate a wallop, 
Buy a biceps bond. 

Want to grip the Kaiser 
Like a bulldog fond? 

Get yourself in training, 
Buy a biceps bond. 

Want to kick the Kaiser 
Downward and beyond? 

Get a bunch of muscle, 
Buy a biceps bond. 



[135] 



THE SUBSTITUTE LIFE 

The cost of meat went soaring up 
Beyond what he could make, 

So Jones was forced to live upon 
A substitute for steak. 

The cost of rent went mounting high 

Beyond his humble dome, 
So Jones was forced to dwell within 

A substitute for home. 

The cost of flour rose aloft 
Past all his purse could meet. 

So Jones was forced to use instead 
A substitute for wheat. 



[136] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

At last poor Jones himself went up 

And fared extremely well; 
"Walk in," Saint Peter said; "you've had 

Your substitute for hell." 



[137] 



YOU 

Were German Zeppelins in the sky 

Above your own home town, 
You would not think the bombs on high 
Were meant for Smith or Brown; 
You'd quick decide, 
"Fritz wants my hide." 

Were German warships off our shore 

To speak in thunder tones 
You would not think that mighty roar 
Was meant for Jinks or Jones; 
You'd say, "That din 
Is for my skin." 

Were German soldiers on our soil, 
If you beheld the Hun, 
[138] 



THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET 

You would not think their plotted spoil 
Was Binks or Robinson; 
You'd mutter, "Wheel 
The boche wants me." 

Now Uncle Sam sends forth the call 

For flyers, soldiers, tars; 
Don't think he wants the rest at all 
To guard Old Glory's stars, 
But holler, "Gee! 
That call means ME!" 



Printed in the United States of America. 



[139] 



n 



^HE following pages ontain advertisements of a 
few of the Macmillan books on kindred subjects 



NEW VACHEL LINDSAY POEMS 

The Chinese Nightingale 

By VACHEL LINDSAY, 
Author of 'The Congo and Other Poems " 

Decorated Cloth, i2mo., $1.25 
This is Mr. Lindsay's first volume of poems since 
The Congo. In addition to the title piece, a very 
remarkable and much discussed "prize poem," the 
collection includes : To Jane Addams at the Hague, 
The Tale of the Tiger Tree, Our Mother Pocahon- 
tas, Mark Twain and Joan of Arc, Two Old Crows, 
The Raft, The Ghosts of the Buffaloes, The King of 
the Yellow Butterflies. The Potatoes' Dance and The 
Booker Washington Trilogy. A number of the se- 
lections are in the manner which Mr. Lindsay has 
made peculiarly his own. "Poems to be read aloud," 
he calls them. Some of these he has employed with 
great success on his own lecture tours, particularly 
Simon Degree, John Brown, and King Solomon and 
the Queen of Sheba. 

PLAYS BY RIDGELY TORRENCE 

Granny Maumee: The Rider 
of Dreams: Simon the Cyrenean 

Plays for a Negro Theatre 
By RIDGELY TORRENCE 

Boards, 8vo. $1.50 
Mr. Torrence has caught the real spirit of negro 
life and imprisoned it in these plays. Presented suc- 
cessfully in New York City in the spring of this 
year by a company of negro players, they were seen 
to be both dramatic in situation, true in character 
and appealing as to theme. The success which they 
enjoyed in production is sure to be duplicated in 
their printed form ; in fact, it may be that their 
certain literary values and their interpretation of the 
philosophy of a remarkable people, are even more 
clearly revealed than they were behind the footlights. 

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York 



NEIV POEMS BY SARA TEASDALE 

Love Songs 

By SARA TEASDALE 
Author of "Rivers to the Sea" 

Decorated cloth, i2mo., $1.25 
Leather, $1.75 

A book of exceeding charm is this collection of 
love poems by the author of "Rivers to the Sea." 
If we take the critic's word for it, Miss Teasdale's 
popularity today and her position as one of the fore- 
most America lyricists are due to the exquisite fin- 
ish, the delicacy of phrasing and the beauty of senti- 
ment of her poems of love. These distinguish the 
book which has just preceded the present one and 
these qualities similarly distinguish her more recent 
magazine verse. This fact makes particularly wel- 
come this new collection which, besides including 
the author's later work, embraces a number of se- 
lections from her earlier writings. 

By the Same Author 

RIVERS TO THE SEA $1.25 

"It is poetry of a limpid, liquid quality." 
Her poems do what poetry supremely 
should do; they sing. — Reedy's Mirror. 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York 



The Collected Poems of Wilfrid 
Wilson Gibson, 1904-1917 

With frontispiece portrait of the author 

Cloth, i2mo., $2.00 

Here are brought together all of Mr. Gibson's 
writings which he wishes to preserve, including 
Borderlands and Thoroughfares, Daily Bread, JVom- 
enkind. Fires, Livelihood and Battle. In the collec- 
tion there is also Akra the Slave, a play of some 
thirty pages, one of Mr. Gibson's earlier composi- 
tions which is new to readers in this country. 

Ralph Hodgson's Poems 

Recently awarded the Edward de Polignac prize 
for poetry, Ralph Hodgson is already well known in 
this country. Those who have read, in the little 
yellow chap books of the "Flying Fame," 'The Song 
of Honour," "Eve," "The Bull" and others will wel- 
come their publication in this American edition. 
" * Eve,' . . . The most fascinating poem of our 
time." — The Nation. 

The Last Blackbird 

By RALPH HODGSON 

Cloth, i2mo. 

The interest aroused by Mr. Hodgson's volume of 
poems published this year has called for the dis- 
covery of some of his earlier work. This volume 
possesses the charm and lyric sweetness, and in ad- 
dition the mystical quality which have placed the 
author in a unique position among contemporary 
poets. 

THE MACMTLLAN COMPANY 

Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York 



A NEW BOOK BY AMY LOWELL 

Tendencies in Modem 
American Poetry 

By amy LOWELL 



$^.50 



In this new volume Miss Lowell again turns to 
criticism. For the first time, the new poetic renais- 
sance is considered critically and given a perspective. 
Taking six leading poets, each a t^-pe of one of the 
trends of contemporary verse, she has written a 
short biographical account of the man, and a criti- 
cal summary of his work ; relating him to the past, 
and showing the steps by which he left it to create 
the present. 

"It would be disagreeably obvious to call 
Miss Lowell's prose 'poetic' Its style con- 
ceals style ; its sculptural simplicity has the 
regnant beauty of line. . . . Always she aims 
at the dominant attitude of each of her poets. 
. . . She achieves chiselled imagery, the re- 
flection in the mirror of words, of the clear, 
bright flame of immortal genius." 

Review of Reviews. 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York 



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